


Sex For Total Morons

by marlee813



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Love, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlee813/pseuds/marlee813
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Embarrassed doesn't begin to describe how Zach feels when his sexy neighbor sees his first book, Sex for Total Morons. He knows he's a master in the bedroom, but judging by Chris' sudden pitying expression... Chris doesn't. Fortunately, Zach isn't about to let this opportunity pass by -- Chris is a teacher, so there's no way he'd refuse to teach him all the ins and outs of sex!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex For Total Morons

The air conditioning hits him like a fist to the face as Zach pulls open the door to his apartment complex. He berates himself for deciding, yet again, that jogging was a good idea in this fucking weather and makes his way over to the mail box. He pulls out his towel from the waistband of his shorts, wiping the sweat from his brow and catches the eye of the other guy standing near the mailboxes.

He slows his steps, suddenly hyperaware of every movement. The stranger is extremely good looking, his blue eyes unwavering and Zach feels shaken with the persistent attention. He feels his heart begin to speed up, a persistent thud, and suddenly the room isn’t so much cold as it is freezing. His arms prickle in goose bumps and the hair on the back of his neck stands straight up. The man smiles at him and Zach can’t help but return it before dragging his attention to his mailbox.

“Hey.” 

Zach turns towards the sound like a moth to a flame, watching as the stranger moves closer, sidling up beside him. They’re approximately the same height and he’s close enough that Zach can smell the faint hint of toothpaste as he breathes.

“Hey,” Zach echoes, his voice soft and raspy, most likely from the beating his lungs just took. Sure, _likely_. 

“Nice terrible towel. It’s a vintage one, am I right?”

Zach pulls away, mouth agape, shocked that anyone here on the streets – or apartment complexes – of LA would have any clue as to what that is. He feels a sudden pang in his chest, desperate for Pittsburgh, his moms smile, and a Primanti Brother’s _sammich_ with coleslaw and fries. He internally facepalms, way to let his supposedly repressed Pittsburghese accent slip, even if it’s just in his own mind.

“It’s the original towel that debuted against the Colts,” Zach responds, nodding his head in agreement, “I found it in my dad’s garage when I was seven after he passed away. I’ve kept it all this time.”

The strangers eyes widen, a slight downcast to his gaze before he meets Zach’s eyes again, “what an awesome keepsake. I’ve only got the rereleased vintage towel; it’s hanging in my bathroom.”

“Big _Stiller’s_ fan, then?” _Oh Jesus_. He regrets even asking, his accent slipping out and probably scaring the shit out of this guy, but it’s the only explanation for someone on the other side of the continental US having intimate knowledge about his favorite sports team. 

“Well that’s a given but I’m also from Pittsburgh, born and raised,” the stranger replies, and Zach feels his spirits lift a little, the homesickness dissipating under the familiar camaraderie.

“On the playground is where you spent most of your days?” 

The guy bursts out laughing, and Zach takes that as a personal win, his eyes crinkling endearingly at the corners, “I think you mean, Philadelphia. West Philadelphia to be more exact.”

Zach joins in on the laughter, the man’s giggles contagious, “Oh. Right. How silly of me.” He rolls his eyes, and the guy nudges playfully into his side. He can feel the man’s heat against his air chilled skin.

“I’m Chris by the way. I tried to find a way to stealthily add that in, but the moment was never right.” Chris pulls away from him and extends his hand, which Zach shakes firmly.

“Zach.”

They end up subconsciously walking together to the elevator, the silence anything but uncomfortable. Zach reaches for the button at the same time Chris does, their hands brushing against each other for a moment before Zach pulls his hand back, letting Chris press the up button for the elevator instead. _So much for not being awkward_ Zach thinks, trying to come up with something witty in order to break the tension that has descended upon them like a cloud. 

“So you live here?” Is what comes out instead. Zach looks up to the ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut and praying for God to just take him now and revoke his smooth card.

“No,” Chris says suddenly, interrupting Zach’s musings, “I just break in here, follow people up to their apartment and steal people’s mail. You’d be surprised at what I’ve found.”

Zach snaps his gaze to Chris’s, and sees the humor glinting in his eyes, “Oh ha ha, very funny.”

“I aim to please.” Chris’s eyes are twinkling and Zach has to physically restrain himself from kissing this man, the man he just met barely 15 minutes ago.

They step onto the elevator, Zach pushing the button for 3 and Chris for 5. As soon as the doors close, Chris has begun talking again. 

“In all actuality though, Zach,” Chris starts, and Zach feels his skin flush at the blatant use of his name, the way Chris says it as if he’s tasting the name on his tongue, “I do live here. I got a job at the college preparatory school teaching English and decided that I needed to move out of my dorm room and act more like a respectable adult.”

Zach finds himself nodding his head eagerly. Chris is eloquent and well spoken and it doesn’t come as a surprise that he’s a teacher. A _very_ good looking teacher, and one that Zach wouldn’t have had _any_ problem getting detention from. _Ass high in the air…_

A finger snaps in his face, and Zach feels his face heat as he’s interrupted from his explicit ruminations. Chris’s smile is sly, and Zach has a hard time pretending that Chris doesn’t know what exactly it is that he was just thinking about. 

“Earth to Zach. You went into lala land there for a second.”

“I’m sorry,” he rubs a hand over his face, “just preoccupied with… with work.” Chris pats his back consolingly - or is it condescendingly? - Zach isn’t sure. 

“‘Work’, huh?” He actually makes the air quotes. Zach wants to throttle him. And then fuck him, “And what is it that you do for this work?” 

Zach cringes at the question. The last time he told _anyone_ he was a counselor they had looked at him with disdain, and then attempted to disprove every scientific notion in the field, citing pseudoscience and bullshit. But Chris is educated, and something, although Zach doesn’t isn’t sure what, sets him apart from nearly everyone else Zach has met. He can hardly see Chris as being a person who would become self conscious at the mere mention of psychology. He seemed too confident to believe it would be Zach’s intent to try to _fix_ him at every given opportunity.

So Zach answers truthfully, shocked at his own admittance, “I’m a counselor.” 

Chris’s eyes brighten, and Zach wonders what he said to elicit that response. And what he could say to get him to do it again.

“I see we are both in the field of helping people.” And was that just Zach or did Chris put emphasis on helping. Like, in a sexual way.

The door suddenly dings, and Zach is relieved to escape the small confines before he does something truly embarrassing. Zach steps forward as the doors open.

“Us _yinzers_ should stick together,” Chris calls out, “get some sammiches and beer n’at.”

Zach smiles at the familiar dialect. 

“For realsies.”

****

“Is this seriously going to be the name of the book?” Zach asks, aghast.

“Well what’s wrong with it, mate? Sounds apt to me,” Karl, his publisher, says from behind his desk, feet up and casually filing his fingernails down.

“ _Sex for Total Morons_. You don’t see _anything_ wrong with that? Not one modicum, not one iota?”

“If people can publish books for dummies, I don’t see why being a total moron is any different,” John, his former master’s professor and current boss, pipes up from the other side of the room.

“I think it’s belittling,” Zach states, “these people need –”

“Look,” Karl interrupts, shifting his feet of his desk so he can lean forward, “you aren’t beating around the bush, Zach. So why give your book a title that isn’t just stating the obvious. These people obviously need help and besides, if they’re too shy to buy it at a store, that’s what online purchasing is for these days. Did you know that you can get a double headed –”

“Karl!” Both John and Zach shout. Karl holds his hands up in surrender.

Zach rubs his head against his hand, “I just wouldn’t feel comfortable recommending a book, which so _happens_ to be mine, to patients with a name like that.”

“That’s what you got the pseudonym for, Zach. No one is going to know that you wrote it and, believe me, they’re going to need this help, title or no title.” 

“Fine,” Zach reluctantly agrees, “but one complaint, John, and I’m renaming it for the second edition.”

“Deal,” John supplies, and, hours later after the final contracts have been signed and manly handshakes have been exchanged, Zach leaves Karl’s office a published author.

****

The package arrives six months later and Zach is quick to rush it upstairs, suspicious that anyone who looks at him would be able to miraculously see through the envelope. He rips open the envelope the second he gets the door closed, tossing the remainder into the shredder. He cracks the spine, the familiar scent of freshly printed books permeates the air and Zach inhales deeply. It’s nothing like the smell of an old, worn and rustic book but the fact that this book is actually _his_ , one that he put so much of his time and effort into, makes the smell that much more memorable.

Zach sits down heavily on the sofa, the stress of the past couple months lifted as he holds the product in his hands. He’d stuck with the name, figuring a blunt approach could be more helpful than fucking around and sugar coating the obvious. The name, his pseudonym, _John Pinto_ , is in the bottom right hand corner and Zach trails his finger across the elevated ink.

He reverentially puts the book on the coffee table and dials up the local pizzeria, before heading to the shower.

The shower is steaming, the hot water pulsing as Zach steps into the spray. It’s the first night Zach’s hasn’t brought home work in weeks, the ludicrous hours spent at a desk wreaking havoc on his personal life. And his muscles. He can feel the tension run dry the longer he’s under the nozzle, and he decides he’s going to call Chris over for pizza and the _Stiller’s_ game. He could use the company.

The call from the pizza guy comes barely twenty minutes later and Zach rushes to the door, knowing that by the time he gets downstairs, the delivery guy will be bitching at him. It happens every time, without fail, and Zach is already dreading the time it took just to put on a shirt and pants. Fuck the delivery guy, next time Zach will show up in boxers and nothing else and then maybe the complaining will stop. He’s lost in his own swarm of thoughts as he swings the door open with a flourish, nearly bowling over Chris who is standing on the other side of the door, hand raised as if ready to knock. Zach stares in surprise, he had planned on calling Chris after the pizza had gotten here but it seems that they both had similar ideas.

Chris looks properly chastised as he shoves his hand in his pocket and levels Zach with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He looks meek, something Zach has never seen in Chris before, but he doesn’t have time for this, and so he raises an eyebrow in question and taps his foot idly against the carpet.

Chris runs his hand through his hair, and clears his throat, “hot date?”

Zach takes a second to look down at himself, his pants are on half sideways and his shirt isn’t even completely buttoned. Besides, he’s not even wearing shoes. His eyebrows furrow, wondering for a brief moment where Chris’s delusional thought process is coming from, before he realizes, yet again, that the delivery guy is probably having a coronary downstairs.

“If you count a hot date as me sitting in my living room eating a piping hot pizza that I am now late to go get downstairs then sure.”

He starts walking away before giving Chris the chance to answer. He’s practically running in his haste to get to the elevator when he hears Chris call out, “Zach! You left the door to your apartment open.”

“So?” Zach responds as he hits the down button at the elevator, “I’ll see you inside when I get back. Surely you know how to close a door, Christopher.”

The elevator dings and he steps inside, feeling the frisson of lust as it rockets down his spine when he realizes that he just called him Christopher. He’s suddenly no longer rushing to get downstairs; he’s instead waiting for the time that he gets to look at those blue eyes once more. 

They had become closer as the months passed. Deciding to spend nights in at each other’s places, watch sports and chat aimlessly. It’s a comfortable escape from the throes of work and Zach has found himself looking more forward to the ‘dates’ he gets to spend with Chris. 

He arrives back upstairs, pizza in hand, and is just walking in the door when he realizes his mistake. Chris is standing there, Sex for Total Morons in hand, and is leafing through the pages. Zach can tell from the doorway that Chris is reading the “lovemaking” section. Zach rolls his eyes, of _all_ the sections in his book, Chris had to be reading _that_ one. He’d fought with Karl and John about it and somehow they had both come to the conclusion that the idea of lovemaking was related to quickies, rimming and rough fucking, which had effectively vetoed Zach’s protests.

“Uh,” Zach mumbles eloquently and Chris looks up from where he’s been reading, eyes wide. He drops the book as if it was on fire, his hands raised as if protecting himself from a wild animal. If Zach wasn’t so embarrassed he’d laugh at how stupid Chris looks right now.

“I’m sorry, Zach,” Chris starts, hands flailing, “I just saw it laying there and, well, you know how I am when it comes to books. I see one I start reading.”

Zach doesn’t immediately reply, instead going to put his soon to be cold pizza on the kitchen counter. Chris must take the silence as anger on Zach’s part as he starts up again.

“I mean, you don’t really have _that_ big of a problem with sex do you? I mean I don’t think you’re seeing anyone, right? We’ve been hanging out a lot more so I’m sure I would’ve noticed –”

Zach can see Chris’s features morphing as he talks, his face unable to hide emotions when he’s feeling them this close to the surface. He sees embarrassment morph into confusion and then anger and Zach is just about ready to shake him and tell him to shut the fuck up when he sees the final emotion, clear as day, grace Chris’s face: pity.

“ – so I don’t understand, you’re so ho… I mean good looking; guys should be all over you. I mean I would totally show you how it works if you wanted me –”

“CHRIS!” Zach shouts, just about having had enough with Chris’s spastic fit, “calm the fuck down would you?” 

The explanation for the whole miscommunication hangs on his tongue, but Zach swallows his words at the last second. The _last_ thing Zach is going to do now is admit that he wrote it. The idea that Chris pities him for having bought it is enough to keep his mouth shut.

Chris quiets, his eyes wide, “Oh my god, what did I just say to you? Please tell me I’m dreaming right now. This is a dream right?”

Zach cracks a small smile, and shakes his head, “unfortunately, for us and all other people on this floor, this is staggering reality.”

“I… I should probably go,” Chris admits, as he makes his way to where Zach is standing. He squeezes Zach’s forearm once, the shadow of pity still sketched onto his features. It’s the only thing the keeps Zach from begging him to stay.

****

Zach had been thinking about their ‘altercation’ for days, running the whole scenario through his head in between work and attempting to come up with a way to talk to Chris and settle things between them. He’d barely seen him around the complex, having come to the conclusion that Chris had altered majority of his daily habits so that there was no chance of them running into each other.

However, the more Zach thought about it, the more he realized he had overlooked a very important part of the conversation; the fact that Chris had willingly _offered_ to help him. Just because he hadn’t had bad at sex since that one time in 10th grade when he accidentally used teeth and Richard had kneed him in the face didn’t mean that Chris had to know that.

And Zach was nothing if not an opportunist; he likes Chris, likes the time they spend together, discussing work and their mutual love of all things Pittsburgh. If he had to enhance his… shortcomings in the bedroom so that Chris would help him, surely that didn’t make him a bad person, did it? And hell, Chris may not even _agree_ to this fucked up plan. In which case Zach would move on as if nothing had happened. A win-win.

Zach glances at the clock. It’s late and both of them have work the next day but Zach just can’t let it go so he dials Chris’s number.

He is just about to hang up, the phone ringing endlessly over the line when a rough, gravelly voice answers.

“’ello?”

“Chris?” Zach’s voice is small, afraid that once Chris knows it’s him he’ll hang up and Zach will have lost the only true friend he’s made since he moved here, “did I wake you?”

“Zach,” the voice on the other side of the phone sounds relieved and Zach releases a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, “mm, yeah but I’m up now.”

“I’m sorry,” they both blurt at the same time before it tapers into nothing, the silence deafening in Zach’s ear before he hears Chris chuckling on the other side of the phone.

“I really said some fucktastic things to you the other day,” Chris confesses, “I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t, Chris. Just, don’t.”

“Can we forget everything that just happened then and move on?”

It’s what Zach should want to hear, what he should’ve been waiting for the second Chris left his apartment and yet something holds him back. Something that’s telling him he doesn’t want to let it go. 

“I,” Zach hesitates, painfully aware of the decision he’s making, “I actually called to ask you a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you mean it?” Zach bites on his knuckle.

“Did I mean what?” 

“When you told me that you’d uh, that you’d show me what it’s like? I mean, ‘cause I know you’re a teacher, and I figured that if there was anyone who could help me that it would be you.”

There’s a pause at the other end of the phone, only the harsh breathing audible over the line. It goes on for so long that Zach is ready to hang up the phone and claim sleep-calling in the morning - _is that even a thing?_ \- when Chris’s voice, murmur quiet, permeates his thought process.

“Zach, are you asking me what I think you’re asking me? Because it’s late and I’m tired, but I could’ve sworn you just asked me what I thought you did.”

“You mean me asking you to teach me sex techniques?” It sounds trite, cheesy, but the flutter in Zach’s stomach is real, and Zach is all too afraid of the answer.

“Yes.” The voice is strong, determined.

“Yes to you knowing what I was going to ask you or yes you’ll do it?”

“Both.”

“You’re quick to give an answer, Chris. You can say no.” Zach really doesn’t want him to, but it’s better than him getting in over his head and losing his friendship anyways.

“I may have thought about it before now,” Chris confesses, and Zach feels his dick twitch, the idea of Chris having already thought about this sets his nerves alight.

“Ah,” Zach blows out a breath, and runs his hand through his hair, “Ok, so we’re doing this?”

“We are, Zachary.” Zach’s dick gives another valiant twitch at his full name on Chris’ tongue, and he has to hold in a groan, gripping the sheets tight before he gives in and starts begging Chris for a round of phone sex. _That’s not part of the plan_ his mind supplies, and it’s weird how much that voice sounds like Chris right now. He figures he’d be happier just hard and aching, than hard, aching and rejected.

Zach lingers on the phone a bit, both of them rambling on about the mundane and unimportant, rubbing his dick through the sheets. Chris’ regular voice is sex, but Chris’ _phone_ voice is utterly sinful and by the time Zach gets off the phone he’s nearly ready to come. He sneaks a spit soaked palm beneath the sheets, teasing the head lightly and smearing the pre-come down the shaft. He shifts to his knees, tugging gently as he maneuvers himself, wrapping the hand that’s not on his dick around the pillow and smothering his face into it, muffling the sounds of his cries as he pulls harder at his dick. He spreads his legs, thrusting down into his hand. He bites hard enough into his bicep to bruise as he comes, Chris’ name mouthed into his skin.

****

Zach waits, his jittery exterior betraying the calmness he’s trying to exude. His knee is shaking against the table and it takes him sitting on his hands to prevent him from biting his fingernails down to the quick. Chris had called him the day after their phone conversation, asking Zach to meet him at the diner they frequented. Now here he was, Chris 20 minutes late, and Zach, trying to fend off the waiter. Zach’s been stood up before, but watching the employees of the restaurant watch you with sadness is the worst.

He’s just about given up after another 10 minutes - the waiter having already written him off, flittering off to other tables and side-eyeing Zach at periodic intervals – when Chris slides into the booth in front of him, face flushed and chest heaving.

Zach goes to speak but Chris cuts him off with a finger to the lips, “Sorry, sorry. Got caught up at work.”

Zach, too preoccupied by staring down awkwardly at Chris’ finger, misses the package Chris slides across the table. And when he does realize, what exactly it is that Chris has placed in front of him, his eyes widen comically.

“Chris,” he hisses, flipping over the “Sex for Total Morons” book and looking around the restaurant, hoping that no one saw. He kicks Chris beneath the table as the younger man snickers helplessly into his hand.

“Ow, fuck,” Chris glares, in between bouts of laughter, rubbing his leg surreptitiously under the table.

“Why the,” Zach notices that people have begun to stare so he quiets down, leaning forward against the table, “why the hell did you bring this? No wait, why the hell did you _buy_ this? You could have just used mine.”

The waiter, having decided that Zach and his guest were now worth his attention, slithers over to their table, unabashedly checking Chris out as they order. Zach really can’t fault him. Zach pulls the book stealthily closer to himself, his cardigan clad arms hiding the majority of the book – and _why_ did he agree to make this book so _big_? - and tells the waiter his order, having decided on what he wanted over 20 minutes ago.

The second the waiter is out of earshot Zach flicks Chris’s hand, “spill it.”

“Alright look,” Chris begins, “I wasn’t actually _at_ work. I mean, I was, but that was like 5 hours ago and anyways I decided to get my own copy so that I could read it. But then actually finding the goddamn thing was proving near impossible. Did you know that this John Pinto guy is actually a sex god? Because it is sold out, fucking everywhere. I got the last copy at that old decrepit book store where the owner guy awkwardly checks me out every time I go in there. Well you should have _seen_ him today. I swear to god he was making evil, EVIL plans as to what to do with my supposed virgin ass. I am never, NEVER going back in there, Zach.”

Zach, by this point, has collapsed into laughter, full on donkey snorting laughter. Chris’s face is red, and he seems to be trying valiantly not to pout. He’s failing, miserably.

“I honestly can’t blame that guy, Chris,” Zach makes a show of peering over the table in an attempt to get a good look at Chris’s magnificent ass. 

“Oh Jesus,” Chris mutters, rubbing his hands over his face as if attempting to remove the blush. It’s not working. “Would you just look at the book that I got mind fucked for?” He nudges the book.

“Why?” Zach asks, cracking the book and flipping through the pages idly, “did you find something in here that will help you nicely and yet cautiously, let down Mr. Creepy Bookkeeper in a way that will still let you maintain your dignity AND supposed ass virginity?” Zach knows there is nothing of the sort in there – considering he wrote it, thank you very much. He does take a second to give some silent kudos to Karl as it seems his absolutely horrible suggestion worked. Just the thought sends a warm trickle of happiness through his veins.

Chris scoffs, “no I did _not_. Believe me, I checked.”

The waiter appears momentarily to drop their food and drinks off, leaning into Chris’ space as he sets his plate down.

“Careful,” the waiter purrs, and Zach would put money on the fact that he would crawl into Chris’ lap if given the opportunity, “it’s hot.” Zach rolls his eyes. He’s seen better dialogue in gay porn. And that’s saying something.

“Thanks,” Chris muses, already beginning to stuff his mouth. Zach catches the eye of the waiter, who startles slightly, a perfunctory question of whether everything is satisfactory, before he books it to the other side of the diner. Zach raises an eyebrow at the waiters change in demeanor and matches Chris’ grin across the table. 

“Do I have something on my face?” Zach asks, thoroughly confused as to what the fuck just happened.

“Oh no,” Chris chortles, his mouth half full of the nachos he’s attempting to stuff in there whole, “nothing of the sort.”

Zach is in the middle of stealing a nacho off of Chris’ plate when he reaches the section – or _sections_ \- he assumes Chris wanted him to find. This time its Zach’s turn to blush, the red flush staining his cheeks and neck as he flips haphazardly through the pages. Chris has annotated nearly every page, little doodles and stick figures adorning the margins. When he gets to the back, the lovemaking section, he realizes that Chris has barely touched it.

“Why didn’t you annotate the lovemaking section?”

Chris chokes briefly on his nacho before answering, “the lovemaking section? Why? Is _that_ what you wanted to focus on?”

Zach takes a second to think about it and comes to the conclusion that it really is the section he knows the least about. The lovemaking chapters had been jumbled together using stuff that Zach had read about or watched on TV, nothing from his personal experiences. He’d only ever been into the quick aspect of sex, the quick satisfaction of release. The idea of drawing out something that ended in an orgasm anyways was anathema to him. He’s convinced that the corny, cheesy love ideal is the movie industries way of making you spend your well earned money on something that will never happen in real life.

Which is why he finds himself enthusiastically nodding his head yes. Let him prove everyone wrong and then maybe Karl and John will get off his back about the whole “having to experience love” crap.

“Alright then,” Chris agrees easily, “nothing big Chris can’t handle.”

Zach breathes a laugh, and keeps flipping through the pages, stumbling onto some pretty explicit looking sex positions.

“Is this position even _possible_?” Zach guffaws, the stick figures seemingly tangled up in each other. Zach can’t make head or tails of it. Chris scoots forward and sighs loudly, apparently unsatisfied with the position he’s in. He moves to Zach’s side of the table, sliding in beside him, thighs and shoulders pressed together as Chris leans over to see the drawing that Zach had pointed to.

“Oh, it’s possible,” Chris answers, grabbing his food from the other side of the table, “I saw it in a porno once.”

“Are we… are we just going to jump right to that?” Zach’s suddenly nervous, the idea of sex with Chris had existed in his mind only in theory. Thinking about the application, what he’s actually going to _do_ with Chris has him fidgeting slightly in his seat.

“No, that’s an advanced maneuver,” Chris responds, overlooking Zach’s sudden shyness, “We’re going to start with the easy stuff: foreplay, kissing, that sort of thing. Then we can move on to the actual lovemaking.”

“So how is this going to work exactly? Like boundaries n’at?”

“I’ll dictate the lessons how I see fit, and tweak where I think you’ll need help as the lesson progresses. You can tell me anything you want to try or you can tell me when to stop. And once the lesson is over we go back to being friends. Is that ok?”

“Wow,” Zach muses, impressed, “you really have thought about this haven’t you?”

“Zach, I’m serious when I say that the last thing I want is for our relationship to change over this. I’m setting up as many boundaries as I can so that it doesn’t get tainted with our friendship. I’d hate to lose you over something like this.”

Zach’s heart swells a little at the sentiment, smiles at how Chris seems to take their friendship as a point of pride.

“Of course,” Zach agrees, “I’d never do anything intentional to fuck this up, you know that.”

“I know.”

“Besides, you’re like perfect teacher, man, so of course you’ve got everything planned out.”

“Well that is why you asked me isn’t it?”

Zach clears his throat, “well, not the _only_ reason.” He looks anywhere but at Chris.

“Oh?” Chris sounds surprised, and Zach can’t resist the urge to look at him anymore. He’s blushing again, the sharp red high on his cheekbones setting off the blue of his eyes.

“I mean, you _have_ seen your ass right? Mr. Creepy Bookkeeper wasn’t fucking around Chris, I was serious about that.”

“I knew it,” Chris shouts, punching Zach lightly in the arm, “I knew you only wanted me for my hot body and epic teaching skills.” 

“Well what else are you good for?” Zach teases.

“Oh you have _no_ idea.”

****

It’s two days later and Zach’s barely got the door closed before Chris is leaning in for a kiss. Zach’s lips are unresponsive due to the shock and so Chris just waits, their breath mingling in the shared space between them.

“Lesson one?” Zach mumbles against Chris’s lips.

“Mmm,” Chris utters, his lips slowly sucking on Zach’s lower one. The vibration ricochets and Zach’s fingers ache with the urge to devour him.

“This is, _ah_ ,” Zach stutters, Chris trailing spit soaked lips against his stubbled jaw, “this is quicker than I expected.”

Chris pulls away and Zach misses the heat immediately, “I thought it would be easier to just go with it. The buildup always ruins the mood.” He looks pensive for a second, “did you want me to stop?”

Zach growls quietly, moving Chris so he’s got his back to the door, “not at all.” He kisses Chris this time, Chris’s lips pliant and soft beneath his own. They share open mouthed kisses as Zach’s hands snake around Chris’s waist, rucking his shirt up slightly, hands splayed against the small of Chris’s back. He draws his nails across the sensitive skin gently and Chris cants his hips up, the soft denim rubbing between them. 

Zach loses himself in the sensations, the way their hips slot together, the warm and slightly clammy feel of Chris’s hands against his face. He presses closer, safe and comfortable in Chris’s orbit. He’s been with many men, but never one like this; never one that after a few short minutes is better than anything Zach had ever experienced.

His hands begin to wander and he traces the waistband of Chris’s pants with his fingers, dipping inside briefly before pulling away. Their kisses become deeper, the smacking of lips the only sound in the small room. He can feel Chris toying with the small hairs on the back of his neck and he presses even closer, his hands dropping lower to knead against Chris’s ass.

Abruptly, Chris pulls away, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling, “whoa whoa slow down there Speedy Gonzales.”

Zach pulls a shaky breath, his hand coming to rest on Chris’s chest, above his heart, fisting the white t-shirt lightly. He can feel his heart palpitate as they both struggle to catch their bearings. Zach recovers first, trailing lips against Chris’s skin; he licks at the shell of his ear and Chris full body _shudders_ , “I’m sorry.” 

Chris meets Zach’s eyes, pupils blown wide, “I don’t believe you.” There’s a grin playing on Chris’s face, and Zach bends forward to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Fine, you caught me. I’m not sorry.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Chris says, poking Zach in the ribs, “I _mean_ I don’t believe for a fucking second that you need help in the sex department.”

“I never said I had a problem in the sex department, Chris,” his trails the hand that’s not still resting against Chris’s chest down his side, watching Chris squirm, “I have a problem in the lovemaking department, not ass fucking.”

“Well then let me introduce you to the first stage of lovemaking, my friend.” Chris smoothes down one of Zach’s eyebrows, Chris’ fingers light and tingly against his head, “this is called the caress.”

“I know what it’s called,” Zach retorts, but his voice doesn’t have the intended bite. He’s too busy pushing his head into Chris’s magical fingers, which are now sweeping over his face.

“You really do love having your head touched, huh?” Chris’ voice is smug and knowing, and Zach opens his eyes - _and when had he closed them?_ \- darting them over Chris’s face which had twisted in pleasure. Zach can’t resist and so he leans forward, his lips teasing over Chris’s. Chris’s hands move, resting carefully against Zach’s chest as they exchange soft, featherlike kisses. Zach attempts to deepen the kiss, his tongue ghosting over Chris’s bottom lip, but Chris pulls back, shaking his head minutely.

“Not yet.” Chris grabs Zach’s hands, placing them over his own face, “your turn.”

Chris’s eyebrows are coarse beneath the sensitive tips of his fingers and Chris sighs softly as Zach’s fingers map out every small contour of his face: the endearing acne scars, the small mole behind his ear and his slightly chapped lips. The touch is sensual and Zach is surprised at how good it feels, the soft, warm skin beneath his hands. 

Zach can’t stop there, his hands smoothing down strong neck muscles before palming gently towards the center of Chris’s chest. Zach purposely catches on a nipple and Chris huffs out a laugh. Zach smiles back, but Chris can’t see it; his eyes are closed, his face completely free of tension. Zach continues his ministrations south, over the expanse of Chris’s cloth covered stomach into a tapered waist before trailing a teasing finger down Chris’s denim covered cock. 

The noise that escapes Chris’ mouth is involuntary, a mixture of a whine and a whimper and his eyes shoot open, fogged and hazed over. Zach can’t resist temptation, not when it’s laid out so enticingly in front of him and so he kisses Chris hard, tongues rough against each other. Chris only allows him a moment before he rolls away from the wall, hands smoothing his hair down. Zach feels like a drug addict, pulled to Chris like his next fix. 

“I’m gonna have to watch for you.” He’s still breathless, and Zach can see the outline of a pretty impressive bulge beneath pants so tight he wonders how Chris can sit in them.

Zach tosses him a wink, slapping his ass lightly as he makes his way to the kitchen. He smiles at Chris’s protests.

“Come on Mr. Darcy,” Zach teases, grabbing his phone, “let’s order some pizza so you can cool your jets.”

Chris snorts quietly but doesn’t say anything, instead coming to wrap his arms around Zach from behind after he dials for pizza. This domesticity is… new, and Zach tenses slightly in Chris’s arms. 

“It’s ok,” Chris whispers, sensing the sudden change and punctuating his words with small kisses to Zach’s nape. Zach’s suddenly nervous, wrapping his hands around Chris’ forearms. There’s nothing sexual, no expectations about the moment that Zach had been so used to before. There’s no rush to get off, and so that’s how they stay, swaying together in the kitchen, until the pizza arrives.

Chris is undulating slowly on the couch, laying in the vee of Zach’s thighs, their half eaten pizza slices and beers forgotten on the coffee table as they share lazy kisses.

“Fuck,” Zach spits, his hips rising up to meet Chris’, hands roaming everywhere. Chris _tsks_ at him, grabbing both of Zach’s hands and raising them over his head, “no touching.”

Zach wants nothing more than to touch, to feel that soft, warm skin against his, but he holds off, tossing his head back when Chris’s crotch catches the underside of his dick. 

“You’re doing so well, Zach.” Zach moans, the sensations nearly overwhelming in their intensity. Chris levers himself up, drawing Zach’s legs around his waist, one hand planted firmly beside Zach’s head.

“Don’t move.” At Zach’s nod of agreement Chris begins skimming his hand lightly down the planes of Zach’s chest, feeling every curve of muscle. He presses closed mouth kisses against Zach’s face: his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, his eyelids. Zach revels in the feeling of Chris’s slightly chapped lips against his skin, the way he has to anticipate every touch. Zach floats, unaware of time and space, just the feel of Chris against him.

It takes a long moment to realize that Chris isn’t kissing him anymore and so he cracks open a lid, watching Chris watch him with something akin to fondness in his eyes.

“What’s up?” Zach asks, squeezing Chris’s bicep lightly. 

Chris pushes a stray strand of hair off of Zach’s forehead before he leans forward and kisses it gently, “you’re falling asleep, babe.” Chris pulls up off Zach and the couch, “and I gotta go,” Chris huffs out a laugh, “it’s super late.” Zach glances at the clock, it reads 2am.

Zach follows him up, kissing him gently on the temple before attacking the mess on the coffee table. His hands are trembling slightly, “you know you can stay if you want.”

Zach regrets asking the second the words come out of his mouth, and the silent pause does nothing to assuage his fears.

“Zach,” Chris starts, moving closer to Zach, “I really enjoyed what we did today, but they’re just lessons, right? I just… I don’t think sleeping with each other is a good idea.”

“No, no of course not,” he blows out an anxious breath, “You’re right. I don’t really know what I was asking.”

There’s a reassuring hand on Zach’s arm as he meets Chris’ eyes. A grin plays on Chris’s face and so Zach smiles back, his nose crinkling. 

“So lesson two soon?” Chris says, as he makes his way to the door. Zach follows obediently at his heels.

“Huh?” Zach asks, distracted by the sway of Chris’s ass as he crosses through the apartment, “yeah, lesson two, call me up when you’re not busy.”

Chris opens the door, turning at the last second to grab Zach’s face between his hands, his kiss strong, chaste, and absolutely mind numbing. It’s only a second before Chris pulls away and Zach puts his fingers to his lips, desperate to keep the taste of Chris on him for as long as possible.

****

Zach rushes hurriedly to the door, the thrum of giddy anticipation making his heart pound faster with each step. Chris stands there, white t-shirt taut across broad shoulders, the front tucked into soft blue jeans.

“Is there a reason we keep hanging out in your apartment?” Chris asks, walking in and pulling Zach into a hug. He’s sure that the hug lingers for longer than is socially appropriate for two guys; even two _gay_ guys. 

Zach pulls away reluctantly and waves a hand in the general direction of the apartment, “because it is flawless.”

“Of course. Forgive me master of interior decorating.”

Zach smiles, the camaraderie still easy and familiar between them despite the change in their friendship activities, “don’t you forget it bitch.”

He can still hear Chris chuckling as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“Fuck it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you, dude,” Chris muses from the couch as Zach rummages around for the beer he has stashed in the back of the fridge.

“Like two weeks or something,” Zach responds, tossing Chris a beer as he sits beside him on the couch. _Two weeks and 2 days but who’s counting?_

“Crazy,” Chris mumbles, taking a sip of his beer, “work is a clusterfuck right now. Kids preparing for exams n’at.”

“I can only imagine how stressful that is. But you gotta help the kids.”

“Absolutely,” Chris goes quiet for a second, “but speaking of helping…”

“Oh god, what?”

“Jesus,” Chris shakes his head, laughing quietly, “you act as if I’m going to do something untoward to your person.”

“Chris I saw those drawings. I know what you’re capable of.” 

Chris groans, “what I _meant_ , Zach, is that we watch a movie or something. I know we watch movies all the time anyways but the book does explicitly say that a lot of non-sexual contact is good because it releases certain hormones that establish secure attachment to your partner.”

“That makes sense,” Zach agrees, although he was pretty sure he bullshitted the hell out of that when he wrote it, taking random information from science journals and adding his own twist to it. Thinking on it now though, Zach feels warm, his body thrumming with the anticipation of Chris near him. _Huh, maybe it’s not such a bad idea afterall…_

Zach moves to get up.

“I’ll do it,” Chris says firmly as he gets up, using Zach’s shoulder as leverage, “you get yourself comfy.”

Zach does as instructed, lying down on the couch as Chris throws in Spaceballs, a movie they’ve both seen a million times. When Chris gets back, Zach obligingly lifts his head so that Chris can sit down, pillowing his head on Chris’s thighs.

“You are such a cuddle slut when we watch movies,” Chris muses softly, as if to himself.

Zach twists, peering up at Chris, “you never seemed to mind it before,” Zach ponders, suddenly self-conscious, _maybe the contact is too close given their recent change in relationship?_ “I can move?”

“Don’t you dare move,” Chris warns. 

Chris’s arm is wrapped around him before Zach even has the chance to do much of anything. He slides down the couch a bit, moving Zach’s head so that it’s nestled on Chris’s lower stomach. He kicks his feet up onto the table, and Zach would admonish him, but the rise and fall of Chris’s stomach, and the bulge that so enticingly lingers in Zach’s eye line keep him quiet.

“You’re so much more content when you’re like this.”

Zach turns to look at him, raising his eyebrow and silently demanding explanation, but Chris is focused on the TV. “What do you mean ‘like this’?” Zach says, intrigued.

“You just seem anti-cuddling sometimes, tense even, but get you in front of a TV and you’re so much more comfortable.”

Zach tries to retort, to come up with _anything_ that will disprove Chris’s observation, but realizes with startling clarity that Chris is right. The only time he’s comfortable being this close to someone without tensing up is when the lights are off with the TV a welcome distraction.

His last boyfriend, Mike, had been about as anti-PDA as one could get, Zach’s attempts at affection, even in the privacy of their respective houses had been batted away the way one might bat away an irritating bug. The only time he had ever let Zach near him was when they could blame wandering hands and whispered endearments on the incessant draw of the TV. The second the trance was broken, the flick of a light switch bringing them both back to reality, Mike would go back to the way he always was and Zach? Zach would be left wanting.

“Stop thinking,” Chris interrupts from above, “I can hear you all the way up here.”

Chris’s fingers begin carding slowly through his hair and Zach releases a shuddering breath. He must make a noise, something alerting Chris to his sudden mood shift because he can feel Chris’s gaze on him, doesn’t have to look at him to see that his eyes are narrowed in suspicion. 

“What’s wrong?”

Zach shifts, dislodging Chris’s hand as he moves to meet his eyes. Chris’s eyes are piercing, insistent yet soft, and Zach feels the tension melt out of him slowly as he sees the concern play across Chris’s features. 

“Nothing.” And for the first time in a long time, he’s telling the truth.

Chris doesn’t respond for a long moment and Zach feels the air heat, watching the palpable change in Chris’s demeanor. He feels his dick start to harden, surprised by the eagerness of his body to Chris’s close proximity. Especially considering that he usually never responded to anything other than direct stimulation.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Chris suddenly blurts, eyes wide.

“You seem surprised by that. Look at me, I am ama –” 

Chris cuts off Zach’s narcissistic rant with a kiss, leaning over himself to reach Zach’s mouth. Zach feels his lips tingle as Chris pulls away, the phantom sensation of Chris’s mouth lingering.

“We moving to lesson two then I presume?” Zach teases.

“Fuck, yes. Now get up here.”

Zach scrabbles off of Chris as Chris slides across the couch, leaving room on both sides. Zach is on him in a flash, one long leg on either side. Chris cups his face and pulls up to kiss him, rolling his shoulders off the couch to have better access to Zach’s mouth.

Zach grinds his hips, but doesn’t attempt to rush it. He slows down the movement, feeling his dick beneath his jeans harden more as he ruts against Chris. Chris’s hands are everywhere, skating up and down his sides, palming the inside of his thighs, his pinkies lightly grazing Zach’s bulge. Zach arches up into the touch as he sucks harder on Chris’s tongue.

“Mmmphf,” Chris mutters incoherently, tearing his head away from Zach’s eager mouth, “fuck, baby, you’re getting so good at this. Just _ah_ , just letting it happen. No rush.”

Zach leans in close, his tongue tracing the outline of Chris’s ear, “I want to say that’s because of how awesome I am but in reality that’s just because you’re an amazing teacher.” Zach can feel Chris’s cock pulse against his at his words, and he smirks against Chris’s neck, licking and teasing the skin with his teeth.

It must be an erogenous zone, because suddenly hard, desperate hands are fumbling against Zach’s shirt, drawing their bodies closer. Zach rocks up onto his feet, heels digging into the sofa. He’s crouched against Chris’s body, gaining leverage so he can lick down into the wet heat of Chris’s mouth. 

“Jesus, how are you even _in_ that position?” Chris gasps, hands grasping for purchase.

“Yoga.”

Chris growls, anchoring his hands underneath Zach’s thighs and lifting, propelling both himself and Zach off the couch. Zach squeals – a very _masculine_ squeal – and clutches Chris’s shoulders, his legs instinctively wrapping themselves around Chris’s waist.

“Oh my god.” 

“Come on yogaboy, time for bed.”

“Fuck.”

Chris chuckles, making it all of five steps before he alters his route, slamming Zach down on the dining room table. 

“What are you –”

“Be quiet,” Chris orders, fingers pressed to Zach’s lips. Chris moans as Zach kisses his fingers softly, and Zach isn’t surprised when Chris replaces his fingers with his mouth, tongues twisting together in a dance already so familiar. Zach digs his heel into the flesh of Chris’s ass, bringing their hips into alignment. Chris pushes hard against him, sending Zach sprawling back, only just catching himself on his hands. They stare at each other, chests heaving.

“Sorry,” Chris apologizes, shaking his head, his fingers roaming over Zach’s body as if to make sure he’s ok before he tugs gently at the hem of Zach’s shirt, “may I?”

Zach nods and Chris pulls his shirt off and tosses it onto the table, hands trailing down exposed skin before flicking softly at a nipple. Zach sucks a breath in through his teeth and Chris grins, shark-like, before doing it again, Zach’s nipples hardening quickly.

“Sensitive?” Chris asks, leaning over to tease one softly with his tongue, hands petting absently at Zach’s chest hair before he pulls away. 

Zach arches into the touch, one hand resting lightly on Chris’s head, “not usually.”

“The book says that when aroused, blood flow will increase, causing nerve endings to be more responsive to stimulation.”

“Oh continue to talk intellectual to me.”

“You’re impossible,” Chris mutters, laughing quietly into Zach’s skin. He bites Zach’s nipple in what can only be construed as retaliation.

He scrabbles to find Chris’s shirt and begins hiking it up. Chris obligingly lifts his arms up in the air and Zach’s mouth waters at every inch of Chris’s skin that he exposes. Zach barely has time to toss the t-shirt before he’s back in the air, being carried with purpose to his bedroom.

“Hey,” Zach whines, “I didn’t get to touch and lick your nipples!”

Chris laughs as he tosses Zach onto the bed, Zach’s complaint ignored. He lands with an _oof_ and spreads his legs in invitation. Zach watches as Chris turns to face the wall, quickly shucking his pants, the white briefs clinging tight to the most delectable ass Zach has ever seen grace planet earth. Chris looks over his shoulder and catches him staring. Zach makes grabby hands and Chris shakes his bum, “like what you see?”

“Fuck yes. Why are you taking so long to get over here?” Zach and, more importantly, his dick, are really starting to get impatient.

“The book says that incorporating things other than pure sex into the bedroom like a strip tease can be a way to get closer to your partner.”

Zach makes a note that maybe that section of the book isn’t as ludicrous as he thought it was. Chris’s ass shaking in the air is making him want to very much get closer. 

Chris flings himself onto the bed, landing in between Zach’s legs. Zach rolls them so that he’s on top, Chris’s legs splayed across the mattress. Zach makes his way down Chris’s torso, caressing and sucking Chris’s nipples in payback – and they are just as sensitive if not _more_ than Zach’s are - before slithering down, tangling his fingers in Chris’s treasure trail. Zach kisses everywhere, the insides of Chris’s thighs, his lower tummy, watching his cock harden and pulse beneath his briefs.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Zach murmurs, mouthing at the soft cotton, “you’re huge.”

“You, _God_ ,” Chris sighs, arching his back up as Zach runs his fingers and tongue over Chris’s dick, turning the fabric translucent, “you flatter me.”

He tugs Chris’s briefs down, watching intensely as Chris’s dick moves, lying long and flushed against his stomach. He flings the underwear off the bed and attempts to get Chris on his stomach but Chris catches him off guard, grabbing him around the waist and pushing Zach so he’s on his back.

“Controlling, huh?”

“You love it,” Chris retorts, already working on Zach’s jeans as he struggles to pull them off, “seriously, do you fucking paint these on?”

“You love it,” Zach mocks, and Chris tugs hard, the pants nearly tearing as he whips them across the room.

Zach’s boxers are next to come off and Chris suctions his lips to the head of Zach’s cock the second it’s exposed to the air. He trails teasing fingers across Zach’s knuckles where they rest against Zach’s stomach, taking his time as he kisses up and down Zach’s shaft and tongues gently at his balls. Chris moves his hands, gently maneuvering them under Zach’s back to pull him closer, his fingers gently kneading the flesh of Zach’s ass. The attention is caring, loving even, and Zach isn’t used to the controlled pace. It’s unlike anything Zach has felt before and the longer Chris takes, exploring and kissing, the more awkward Zach starts to feel. 

He’s so caught up in his mind, the pleasure warring with how _intense_ it feels, that he doesn’t feel Chris stop until his face is inches in front of his own, face strong, beautiful and full of concern.

“Zach?”

“What?” his voice is sharp, so he clears his throat, tries again, “what? I’m fine.”

“You’re tense.”

“I’m ok.” He looks to the headboard, suddenly discomfited. Blowjobs were supposed to be quick and dirty, not _this_. Zach feels his face heat, and groans in frustration.

“Look at me,” Chris demands.

Zach averts his eyes, face twisting in the sheets. 

“Are you embarrassed?” Chris asks, shocked. 

“Oh my God,” Zach moans, laughing despite himself, “way to beat around the bush there.” 

“People aren’t used to being blunt because our society dictates politeness over telling the truth. Being blunt is always shocking, so I was hoping that it would take your mind off of whatever was bugging you.”

“That is a crazy thought, Chris.”

“But it did work, didn’t it?” Chris grins, his smug smile splitting his face and Zach can’t resist leaning up to kiss him.

“Yes,” Zach admits.

“Good, now lay back and let me take care of you.” Chris doesn’t wait for an answer, instead snaking his way back to Zach’s dick, which had flagged a bit.

“Watch me,” Chris whispers.

Zach is powerless to disobey this time, chocolate meeting cerulean as Chris takes the spongy head into his mouth, his lips squeezing softly around him. 

Zach traces his finger across Chris’ cheekbone, his hips thrusting shallowly into the confines of Chris’s mouth. “You’re perfect,” Zach says under his breath, and Chris blushes crimson, pulling off of Zach’s dick and hiding his face in the juncture of Zach’s thigh and hip. He can feel the skin heat as Chris mouths at it and Zach cards his hand through Chris’s dirty blonde hair, tugging gently.

“Look whose shy now.”

“Oh fuck you,” Chris mumbles, but there’s no heat to it, instead, he redoubles his efforts, pumping his hand in time with his mouth until Zach is nearly curled up on himself, his pleasure building like a spring ready to snap.

“I’m gonna,” Zach warns, giving time for Chris to pull off, but he just moves his hand faster, mouth open and eager as Zach comes hard, nearly blacking out from the force of his climax.

Chris rests his head against Zach’s lower stomach, his breath making Zach’s cock twitch with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“Come here,” Zach demands, his neck and face flushed from shooting hot down Chris’s throat. Chris kisses his way up Zach’s body, he’s shaking minutely, his skin hyper aware of every movement Chris makes. 

“You look so good when you come,” Chris says, leaning down to kiss the corners of Zach’s mouth. 

“And you look good sucking my cock.”

Chris smiles shyly and makes use of the opportunity to help get Zach comfortable. He places a pillow beneath Zach’s head, making sure the angle is right before he straddles Zach’s chest, effectively pinning Zach’s arms with his legs.

Chris leans forward, one hand on the headboard, the other on his cock, flushed almost purple and leaking copiously at the tip. Zach strains to reach it, his head just out of reach. He manages to brush his tongue against the tip, Chris’s cock jumping at the sudden touch. Zach aches to do it again.

“Come on, Chris.”

Zach sticks his tongue out, watching with still blown pupils as Chris slaps his dick against his tongue once, twice before slowly feeding him his cock. They both groan in unison, Chris’s hips stuttering as he tries to keep his pace fluid. Zach takes a deep breath through his nose, feeling Chris’s cock as it bumps the back of his throat. He swallows around Chris, watching through lidded eyes as Chris drops his head to his chest, eyes closed in pleasure. 

“Shit, Zach,” Chris curses, pulling his dick out slowly before thrusting back inside, “look at you, your fucking _mouth_.”

Zach leans up to take more into his mouth, but Chris’s hand is on his hair, holding him back.

“Just take it slow, baby.” Chris’s hips move languidly, and Zach lets him fuck his mouth, tonguing the underside of Chris’s cock every time he pushes deeper.

Chris is close, his balls drawing up tight, and Zach frees a hand from where Chris’s legs have them trapped. He trails one finger down Chris’s crack and Chris is gone, his hand slipping from the headboard to grasp at the sheets as he pumps Zach’s mouth full.

It takes Chris all of five seconds before he’s wrapped around Zach’s body, kissing him everywhere he can reach, “fuck, Zach, I’m sorry.”

“For?” Zach’s blissed out, not a care in the world. He has no clue what Chris is going on about.

“For you know,” Chris motions to his mouth, “not warning you.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Zach says, laughing, “it’s perfectly alright. I like it.”

Chris relaxes, kissing Zach’s hair a final time before rolling onto his back. They both drift off, for minutes or hours, Zach isn’t sure. The last thing he remembers is Chris pulling the sheets over their sweat cooled bodies, complaining about the cold.

He wakes to Chris trailing his fingers down Zach’s chest beneath the sheets.

“I gotta go.”

“That seems to be a common occurrence after these things, I’m starting to feel like your mistress,” Zach pouts.

Chris leans over to kiss him quickly, wiping away any hint of sadness – fake or otherwise – off of Zach’s face, “never, you’re just my mistress to my students. Got papers to grade and finals to prepare.”

“Well I can’t come between a man and the kids relying on him now can I?”

Chris grins, “won’t be long, exams are just about here. If you don’t hear from me for a few days it just means I’m busy helping the kids out. It’s ok, though, we can make you a love making master in no time.”

“In no time,” Zach repeats, monotone, “fantastic.” 

Chris pops out of bed and begins to dress, wiggling his hips and sneaking a wink over his shoulder when he pulls up his pants. It does little to cut Zach’s mood, the mention of their agreement – which he should have _never_ lost sights on – bringing him back to reality. It’s unsettling, but Zach is secretly relieved that Chris won’t be around for a few days. He can hopefully put his feelings in some semblance of order before he has to see him again.

“You did really well today,” Chris explains, unaware of Zach’s inner turmoil. He comes over to give Zach one last kiss.

“Thanks, Chris,” Zach responds, shooting Chris what he hopes is a genuine smile, “guess I’ll see you after exams.”

“Absolutely.” 

And then Chris is gone.

****

“Zach!”

The rapping on the door is loud and Zach rolls over in bed, checking the time. 1:24am. He groans, his bones popping as he propels himself up, desperate to make it to the door and wring Chris’s neck before he wakes any more of the people on this floor. He hadn’t expected to hear from him, last Zach checked, Chris’s students still had exams.

He only just realizes that he’s wearing boxers and nothing else after he’s swung open the door.

“Chris, what –” Zach starts, and then stops immediately when he sees how wrecked Chris looks. His eyes are swollen, blue bags that highlight the deep pink ring around them. He cuts off a yawn as he barrels his way into Zach’s apartment, nearly collapsing into Zach’s arms. 

“What are you doing here? It’s almost 1:30 in the morning, Chris.”

Heavy arms wrap around Zach’s waist and he’s powerless as he feels the wet press of lips against his neck.

“Too far to go to my apartment,” Chris mumbles against Zach’s shoulder and Zach rubs his palms against Chris’ back, “examinations just ended at school. Had to stay late.”

“How is it too far, Chris? You live two floors above me and the elevator is right there.” He motions with his hand to the general location.

Chris doesn’t say anything, instead tightening his arms around Zach’s waist and burrowing further into Zach’s body, as if hesitant to let go. Zach pulls Chris closer, surely one night wouldn’t hurt right? He can sleep on the couch, be the friend that Chris needs him to be.

“Jesus, let’s get you to bed then,” Zach whispers, half carrying, half dragging Chris to the bedroom. He only gets a scant look at Chris’ body, one long pale stretch of skin, before he’s burrowing under the covers. He sighs loudly as he wiggles, trying to get comfortable. He finally quiets after a few long moments and Zach can scarcely afford to look at him, the want and desperation warring inside of him seeing Chris so at home in his bed.

“I’m just gonna go sleep on the couch,” Zach states, convinced that Chris is already asleep by the lack of answer. He barely makes it to the doorway of the bedroom when he hears it, the small, exhausted breath; the plea for Zach to stay.

“I can’t Chris,” Zach explains, “this isn’t… this isn’t what we agreed to.”

Chris sits up in bed, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands as the sheets pool around his waist. His eyes are half closed and he sighs a yawn into his fist. 

“Fuck Zach, just get into this goddamn bed, its part of the lesson, ok? Sleeping with someone makes you… you feel safe and protected.” 

“Chris.” Zach’s voice is firm. He knows for sure that that lesson isn’t in the book.

“Zach. Please.” His voice is low and breathy. And Zach for a split second believes that maybe Chris needs him as much as he needs Chris. He tries to get away, to make an excuse and just leave. But he can’t, it’s not Chris’s fault that Zach went and started having feelings for him.

He glances at Chris one more time, and the look on his face causes the last of Zach’s resolve to crumble. He slips into the bed, relishing in the way that Chris’ arm immediately comes to rest across his chest. 

“Thank you,” Chris mutters into his ear. 

He toys with the hairs on Chris’ arm, and can feel the deepening of Chris’s breath as he falls asleep. As long as he can relate everything back to their deal, that nothing will come out of this, Zach can refuse to admit to the feelings that surface every time he doesn’t actively try to force them back down.

Needless to say, it takes a long time of staring at the ceiling, the deep inhale and exhale of Chris’ chest against his side, before Zach drifts off into restless sleep.

Zach wakes up with a start, hands drifting across the bed looking for Chris. He's not there, the place occupied by his body the night before is cold. By the time he comes to full consciousness he's convinced that he dreamed it, his sleep-addled brain having conjured up the whole thing.

He hears the door open and he relaxes slightly when he realizes its Chris, arms full of coffee and, if Zach can smell correctly, bagels.

“Hey, sorry, I figured I’d get back before you woke up,” Chris explains, looking a bit, _sheepish_? Zach can’t tell, too busy internally flailing at the fact that Chris is _here_ , in his bedroom, with _food_.

“No worries.” 

Chris tosses him a bagel, just missing Zach’s epic morning wood that has decided to make an appearance, and sits down on the bed next to Zach. The smell of the cinnamon is strong, and Zach’s mouth waters involuntarily. Zach barely resists flinging himself into Chris’s arms as he takes a bite of the heavenly bagel, moaning around it wantonly as the butter drips down his chin, “oh my god, Chris, this is wonderful, I love you so much right now.”

His declaration is met with silence and its then that Zach realizes what he said. He goes to back pedal, to apologize, but Chris beats him to the punch.

“I’m an idiot,” Chris blurts.

“Wha –?” Zach struggles to swallow the remnants of his bagel. 

“I went back on what I said after that first lesson, Zach. I didn’t mean to practically force my way into your apartment last night.”

“Well it technically was this morning.”

“Zach. Seriously?”

“Look,” Zach says, throwing his hands up the air, “it’s not a big deal,” _As long as you don’t make it a big deal_ , “you don’t see me freaking out about it.” _Not on the outside anyways_.

Chris collapses against the bed, reaching out to snag a piece of Zach’s bagel, “That’s just because I bought you coffee and bagels.”

“Exactly,” Zach agrees, reaching out to grab the bagel out of Chris’s hand, ignoring his protests, “Although I know you only bought coffee so you didn’t have to use my maker in the kitchen.”

“That thing is evil.”

“I don’t know how you manage to fuck it up every time but if you bring me coffee and bagels in bed, you can stay whenever the hell you want.”

Chris chuckles softly, “I might take you up on that offer. Your bed is a gift from god. What are those, 4000 thread count sheets?”

“One thousand. Egyptian cotton will save your life, man. And your hair.”

“One thousand thread count a day keeps bed head at bay?” 

“Precisely.” 

They both start laughing and Chris reaches over to ruffle Zach’s hair, the bagel wrappers falling to the floor as they wrestle together on the bed. By the time they’ve settled down, both are out of breath, their coffees are cold, and Zach will never be able to forget how effortlessly Chris wormed himself into his bed as much as his heart.

****

“Oh Jesus, Chris,” Zach whines, batting the book out of his face as he closes the door to Chris’s apartment, “get that book out of my face.” The last thing he needed was to be staring at the manifestation of his deception.

He suddenly wants to go to his own apartment, to get away from the book Chris carried around like the bible, but Chris had insisted that their next lesson be conducted in Chris’s apartment, citing that he had a “surprise” for him.

“Look, you expressed interest in,” Chris opens the book to the page, the dog-eared corner rubbed raw, “this position right here. I thought we could try it.”

 _Ah, yes, the infamous Kama Sutra_ Zach thinks, looking at the stick figures with renewed admiration for whoever is _capable_ of achieving that position without major cramping.

“Just because I ‘expressed interest’ in the position doesn’t mean that I want to try it. Besides I thought making love was all on your back staring into each other’s eyes type bullshit.”

Chris audibly sighs, and rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “you are seriously delusional. It’s not about the position, it’s about… it’s about the passion of two people creating something between each other.”

Zach mock gags, “Jesus, Pine. We need to stop watching those romantic comedies you love so much.”

“Oh that _I_ love so much? I wasn’t the one who cried during 13 Going On 30.”

“Hey you promised me you’d never bring that up.”

Chris drags his fingers across his lips, pretending to lock them before throwing the key. He grabs Zach’s hand, “just shut up and come on.” Zach thinks about dragging his heels, demanding to know what Chris is so eager about, but the feel of Chris’s hand in his is enough to get him to stop fighting. To just follow Chris’s lead.

His throat catches the second he walks into Chris’s bedroom, the lump making his eyes water and sting. Chris has completely transformed his bedroom. Gone are his ratty dorm room sheets, instead replaced with soft white plush sheets. The duvet coverlet is covered with red and white rose petals and Zach pries his hand out of Chris’s, fingering the petals as he trails his hand across the duvet. He can tell from the feel that they’re Egyptian cotton and the fact that Chris did this, did this for _him_ has Zach’s whole body flushing with gratitude for this man. 

The rest of Chris’s bedroom, small as it is, is nearly filled with candles. Scented candles, tea-cup candles, centerpiece candles all decorate every flat surface. There are red, white and pink ones and the lights flicker and sway with the movement of the air, bathing the room in soft light. He looks to Chris, who is standing in the corner of the room, the lights casting shadows across his face and throwing his features into stark relief. And its then that Zach realizes that Chris is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

Chris grins effortlessly at him as their eyes meet across the room, and its then that Zach realizes how stupid he’s been this whole time. This feeling, the feeling that he wants to hold Chris and never let him go, the way his breath catches when he knows Chris is staring at him, the way his stomach flutters with the mere thought of him, this is the feeling everyone was talking about. He thought it was stupid, corny even, the way that other people talked of love; how commercialized it had become over time. You’d be hard pressed to find people who actually liked to be in the company of the same person for more than five minutes, who looked at each other with such admiration and love that anyone looking at them would feel as if they had interrupted a private moment. 

“Zach?”

Zach stares at Chris with shocked eyes and he’s torn between the need to rush into Chris’s arms or run out the door and never look back. He has to keep reminding himself that this isn’t _real_ , that the tangible evidence, the candles, the sheets and the roses, are just props in a game he isn’t interested in playing anymore.

He wants this to be real, for Chris to take everything that Zach is willing to give. But to Chris it’s just a lesson, a way to help out a friend. And Zach shouldn’t – can’t – expect anything more, he had made this decision as a way of getting into the pants of his hot upstairs neighbor and ended up doing the one thing he could’ve sworn was never possible.

He fell in love.

“Zach?” The voice is more concerned – and closer – but Zach isn’t paying attention. He’s too busy sitting down heavily on the bed, raising a trembling hand to his mouth to try to stop the shaking.

There are sudden hands on his knees and Zach stares, unseeing, at Chris, kneeled on the floor, “Zach, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this, Chris,” Zach finally spits, self-deprecating laugh bursting unbidden from his chest. 

“Do you not like it?” Chris asks, eyes glancing around the room, “is it too much? Oh God, it’s too much isn’t it?”

“No,” Zach shakes his head, “it’s great. Perfect, even. I love it.” _I love you_.

“Then what is it?”

Zach stands, feeling the sudden need to move, dislodging Chris’s hands in the process. He begins to pace as Chris moves to sit on the bed, a lone petal falling to the floor.

“Zach!” Chris barks, “Just fucking _tell_ me.”

“It’s all a lie, Chris,” Zach spills, the words laced with venom, “Everything. Is. A. Lie. This… deal, or agreement or whatever, was made under false pretenses.” Zach’s chest constricts hard at the confession.

“False pretenses? What do you mean?”

“I wrote the book, Chris,” Zach blurts, near hysterical at this point, “I. Wrote. It.”

Chris flinches as if he’s been hit and Zach has to look away, the betrayal and disgust on Chris’s beautiful face makes Zach want to throw up.

“You wrote it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Yes, I wrote it and I didn’t _tell_ you because I didn’t think you’d agree if I just asked you if you wanted to have sex.”

“So you just used me instead?” Chris sounds hurt, fragile, “why? I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” Zach emphasizes his point by smacking his hand on the desk, the lights from the candles flickering madly, “look I just thought you were a nice guy. And you were hot. I took the initiative when you offered. You can’t tell me you agreed to this for innocent reasons either, Chris.” 

“Well, no,” Chris admits, deflating slightly, “I guess I agreed to this for the same reasons you did.”

“Exactly.”

“That doesn’t mean its okay that you didn’t tell me you wrote the damn book.”

“Well I didn’t expect this to happen!” Zach sweeps his hand across the room, the movement from his arm casts ominous shadows against the wall.

“Didn’t expect what to happen, Zach?” Chris asks, “didn’t expect to feel bad? Didn’t expect that I might take this seriously and actually give a shit? Didn’t expect –”

“I didn’t expect to fall in love with you!” Zach shouts, “I don’t know how it happened but you’re all I can think about, Chris. The time that we spent together felt so real to me that I just couldn’t let it keep happening under the circumstances. I’ve never felt this way before in my life. I know when I asked you for help that day that I really did think I knew everything there was to know about sex. Hell, I wrote the book on it. But I had no clue that it could feel like this, so effortless and easy. Believe me when I tell you that I love you, Chris. More than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.”

Zach doesn’t hesitate as he takes one step and then another, making his way out of Chris’s bedroom and his apartment. The image of Chris, mouth gaping and speechless, haunts him as he makes his way down the stairs to his own apartment. The tears stream freely down his face, Zach having given up all pretense of trying to fight it. He has to stop, his vision clouding so dangerously he’s afraid he’s going to fall. 

He’s just about to close the door, to barricade himself inside and wallow in self pity – and people really weren’t kidding about heartbreak feeling like your chest was about to be ripped apart, your heart trying to escape the pain but it can’t – when a hand comes out of nowhere, pushing the door open so hard it bounces off the wall.

Zach turns at the sound, watching Chris as he slams the door closed, his eyes red-rimmed, fists clenched at his sides. Zach takes a step back, afraid that Chris is about to hit him. But the expected blow doesn’t come, instead Chris just stands there, chest rising sharply with each breath, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Chris…” Zach reaches a hand out. 

“No,” Chris explodes, having found his voice. He’s gorgeous in his anger, eyes bright and Zach is mesmerized, “You don’t get to look at me like that and talk to me like after what you just did. You can’t just leave after admitting to me that you love me!” 

Zach looks away, blushing furiously, “I’m sorry.” It’s barely a whisper.

“Did you ever stop to think about how _I_ felt? How that maybe, while you were in here scheming away with your crazy plan, I was falling in love with you too?”

Zach snaps his head back to Chris’s face, there is fierce determination in Chris’s eyes and Zach feels dizzy with emotion.

“What?!”

“You heard me,” Chris takes a step forward and Zach resists the urge to back away, “I love you, you idiot. Not that you gave me the chance to say it upstairs.”

Zach isn’t sure which one of them moves first, but his arms are suddenly filled with Chris, who’s warm, soft and pliant, their bodies slotting together perfectly. He wraps his arms tighter around Chris’s body, pulling him closer, his forehead brushing Chris’s shoulder as he breathes him in. 

“Fuck I’m sorry,” Zach mumbles against Chris’s shirt.

“Prove it. Show me,” Chris challenges, moving Zach’s head to cup between his hands, his thumbs tracing softly against Zach’s face.

Zach leans forward, closing the gap between them to kiss softly at Chris’s lips, his teeth nibbling carefully on Chris’s bottom lip. The hands slip from Zach’s face to wrap vice-like around Zach’s neck. The kiss deepens, and Zach swipes his tongue against the seam of Chris’s mouth, which opens with no resistance. Zach presses harder, his leg slotting between Chris’s as his hands grab fistfuls of ass. He shoves Chris up against the wall, letting Chris ride his thigh, feeling the telltale hardness against his leg. 

“Come on, baby,” Zach pants, watching Chris whine and moan, his head tossed back in pleasure. Zach takes the opportunity to hike Chris’s shirt up, watching as the shirt collar musses Chris hair, his eyes blow wide in arousal as his head pops out of the shirt. 

Chris grins, the smile highlighting his flushed cheekbones and Zach forces him back against the wall, his hands roaming over pale, supple skin. 

“Bedroom,” Chris gasps.

Zach takes Chris’s hand this time, lacing their fingers together as he tugs Chris to the bedroom. He moves to stand behind Chris, his arms wrapped around him from behind, softly kissing Chris’s neck. He relishes in the feeling of being able to do this, Chris’s back solid against Zach’s front. Chris hangs his head, one arm reaching behind him to run through Zach’s hair as he nibbles his way up Chris’s nape. His hair smells like granny smith apples.

“You smell good,” Zach comments, rubbing his face against Chris’s hair. 

“And you need to get more naked,” Chris replies, turning in Zach’s arms. His chest is cold from where it’s had direct contact with the cold and so Zach takes the initiative, pulling his shirt off as Chris works on the buttons of Zach’s jeans. 

Zach sits on the bed, his white boxers pulling taut as Chris moves to stand between his legs. Chris’s jeans are a bit loose, falling down on slim hips and Zach can see the waistband of Chris’s underwear. He trails his fingers across Chris’s skin making him shiver as he reaches the buttons on his jeans. He watches them pool on the floor, gazing at Chris with lidded eyes as he steps out of the pile, kicking them across the room. The plump cock underneath Chris’s red underwear makes the fabric stretch obscenely.

“Suck it, babe.”

Zach feels his mouth water, unable to deny Chris anything, although why he’d want to is beyond him. He slowly peels Chris’s briefs off, his cock standing straight out as Zach discards the briefs and he engulfs the whole thing, feeling his cock nudge the back of his throat. He pulls off completely, before going back, tonguing the underside of Chris’s shaft, saliva and precome dripping down his chin. 

Chris stumbles forward and puts his knee on the bed for support. Zach’s hands stroke down the back of Chris’s thighs, urging him harder and faster. 

“Nggh, stah… stop,” Chris grits out, and Zach releases Chris’s cock with a wet pop, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Chris’s cock glistens and Zach aches to suck it again although his attempts are met with a firm hand to the chest, pushing him back on the bed. Chris removes Zach’s boxers, his dick springing up hard and desperate. 

“Move to the headboard,” Chris instructs.

Zach shuffles back, watching as Chris scrabbles up the bed to straddle Zach’s thighs. He grinds his ass down on Zach’s cock, the head rubbing teasingly against Chris’s taint. 

“Want to fuck me?” Chris whispers in Zach’s ear.

“Yes, please,” Zach pleads, his hands parting Chris’s cheeks, the friction just shy of perfect as he slides his cock between them.

“Lube? Condoms?”

“Top drawer.”

Chris tosses him the lube and Zach pours a generous amount into his hands, rubbing it between his palms to warm it up. He trails one lubed finger down Chris’s crack, teasing at Chris’s hole. Chris whines, pushing against Zach’s finger and Zach presses, his finger slipping in with hardly any resistance. 

“You’re a tad needy,” Zach jokes, twisting his finger and watching the sway of Chris’s hips as he pivot back and forth over Zach’s hand.

“Mmm,” Chris moans, his hips stuttering as Zach flicks teasingly against Chris’s prostate, “fuck, yes, just like that.”

Zach sucks wetly at Chris’s chest as he adds a second finger, scissoring them slowly. Chris gives himself no time to adjust, the small _ah, ah, ah_ as Zach pumps his fingers in and out. 

“You ok?” Zach asks.

“Yeah,” he rolls his hips, pushing Zach’s fingers impossibly deeper as he leans forward, capturing Zach’s mouth with his own. Their tongues twist in open mouth kisses and Zach’s other hand grips his cock tight, the head flushed a deep pink and oozing precome from the tip. 

“Can you take another finger?”

Chris nods his head and Zach adds more lube to his hand, feeling Chris contract around his fingers as he pushes another one in. He hooks his fingers, teasing his prostate from the inside, his thumb rubbing circles to stimulate it indirectly on the outside. Chris mewls and surges forward, trailing lips down Zach’s neck and sucking a bruising mark into his skin.

Chris is sweating, small beads dripping down his temples and Zach licks them off, the taste of salt bursting across his taste buds. 

“Look at you, taking my fingers so well.”

“Jesus, come on Zach I’m ready, I’m ready.”

“On your back,” Zach commands and Chris eagerly obeys, moving to lay in the middle of the bed.

He moves to his knees, ripping the condom open and rolling it down his dick. He adds lube and nudges Chris’s legs apart, positioning his cock at Chris’s hole. 

“You look so good laid out like this,” Zach groans, gripping his cock at the base as he enters, falling forward onto one hand as he pushes past the ring of muscle. They both moan simultaneously and Chris’s legs wrap around Zach’s waist, driving Zach’s cock further into him. 

Zach collapses to his forearms, cradling Chris’s head as he sinks into Chris’s heat inch by inch. It’s painstakingly slow, and Zach has to fight everything inside of him to not just fill him in one hard thrust. Chris’s eyes are screwed shut, his head tossing from side to side as he murmurs incoherently, hands fisted in the sheets.

“Come on, sweetie, look at me.”

Chris opens his eyes, looking drugged and strung out and Zach knows that the expression is mirrored on his own face. His pupils are nearly eclipsing the iris and Zach bends to kiss him as he bottoms out, feeling Chris’s ass pulse around him as he struggles to let Chris adjust. Zach keeps his movements slow, rocking up into Chris’s slick hole, the way he’s positioned leaves little room for him to thrust hard. 

He’s never felt like this before, so consumed with love and want for someone. He needs no instruction, instinct taking over as they move together, hands entwined, the sweat-slide of bodies together. He finds his body knows exactly what to do, where to move, what angle to hit that has the sensitive tip of his cock nudging against Chris’s sweet spot. 

Chris’s hand goes to wedge its way in between their bodies, but Zach stops, pinning his hand above his head.

“Zach,” Chris breathes, “please. I need to come.”

Zach gets a sudden burst of inspiration and slowly pulls out, Chris nearly sobbing at the loss.

“Chris, baby, it’s ok. Roll over onto your side.”

Chris barely has the strength to move, his body weak and shaky but he manages to shift enough that Zach can lay behind him, his hands running desperately over Chris’s chest and plucking gently at a nipple.

“What’re you doing?” Chris mumbles, looking over his shoulder to glance at Zach.

“That position you wanted to try.” 

“You mean the position _you_ wanted to try,” Chris huffs indignantly. 

Zach noses Chris’s sweaty hair and smiles, “uh huh.”

He lifts Chris’s upper leg, positioning his between them. Chris hooks his leg behind Zach calf, using the leverage to draw Zach closer as he re-enters, Chris’s heat enveloping his cock. It’s still wet and tight, and Zach sinks in with ease, both of them sighing as Zach fills Chris to the hilt, his balls nestled snugly against Chris’s ass.

Zach kisses every inch of skin he can reach as he drives himself deep. The position has Chris wailing, Zach nailing his prostate as he pushes in over and over. Chris rolls his upper body, shoulders nearly flat against the mattress, arms grasping at Zach’s body. 

“Baby, I gotta, I need to come,” Chris whimpers.

Zach wraps his hand firmly around Chris’s leaking erection, biting into Chris’s arm as he tugs roughly. They’re both close, and Zach can see Chris’s nuts draw close with his impending orgasm. He doubles his pace, thrusting harder and smearing the precome down Chris’s cock.

“Zach,” Chris whines.

“Come on, Chris. I love you so much, lemme see you.”

Chris screams, his body uncoiling like a spring, painting the sheets, Zach’s hand and his chest with come. Chris’s ass tightens to near unbearable, his muscles trembling and quivering around Zach’s dick. He thrusts once, twice and comes, his orgasm slamming into him. 

They stay wrapped up in each other for an undetermined time, their breath quieting and the sweat cooling. Zach pulls out slowly, tossing the condom into the trash before he wraps Chris up in his arms, petting his hair and painting kisses all over Chris’s face.

“Huh,” Zach muses, “guess it… guess it is possible to get into that position.”

“Seriously?” Chris asks, shifting so that he’s facing Zach, “after all that and that’s all you can say?”

“It was pretty amazing, I do have to admit.”

Chris chuckles, his voice deep and raspy, “that’s the understatement of the year. Jesus where did you learn to fuck like that? I thought you couldn’t make love.” His voice holds a level of disbelief.

“I couldn’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“Need to be in love to be able to make love, Chris.” Chris goes quiet, but Zach can still see the smile lingering on his face, the same sappy gooey smile that when he used to see it, made Zach want to hit things. It does nothing now but make him smile back, and wrap Chris closer.

“Ugh, no.” Chris stops him with an hand against his chest, “I’ve got come… everywhere.”

Zach bursts out laughing, “well then m’dear, let us go have a shower.”

\---

They’re lying in bed, Zach wrapped up in Chris’ warmth. He’s just about to fall asleep, the steady rhythm of Chris’ breathing and the beating of his heart lulling him to slumber when he feels Chris shift, the deep shaking underneath him a warning sign that Chris is holding in laughter.

Zach beats lightly against Chris’ chest, “what are you laughing at?”

“I just… I just realized,” Chris stammers out, his chest convulsing before he releases a full throated belly laugh, “that the pseudonym that you used for your book… Pinto, is both of our last names together.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Zach whines, his face warm in the dark, “I didn’t even _know_ you then!”

“We must be meant to be!” Chris proclaims loudly, both of them collapsing in a fit of giggles as Zach hides his head underneath Chris’ arm.

“I cannot even – wait,” Zach sits up, “why are you even _thinking_ about that?”

Chris quiets immediately, his hands trailing fire down Zach’s sides, “because I like the way it sounds.”

“How what sounds?” Zach’s breathing is shallow, his heart hammering.

“The way our names sound together.”

“You are such a cheese ball, that’s almost as bad as the rose pet… wait. Chris?!”

Chris snorts, “wha…?”

“Did you blow out all the candles upstairs?” Zach’s heart is pounding for a different reason now as he listens carefully for the sounds of sirens in the distance.

“Oh my god.” Chris’s eyes are huge saucers, and Zach scrambles to get off the bed.

When he looks back to scream at Chris to get his lazy ass out of the bed right the fuck now, he can see that Chris is laughing so hard he can barely breathe, soft cackles resonating in the room.

“Are you fucking with me right now?” Zach stands tall, arms crossed and defiant.

“Yes,” Chris bellows, collapsing against the sheets as he roars with laughter, “you should have seen your face Zach, oh my god.”

Zach tackles Chris to the bed, “oh I fucking hate you, you asshole.” But he starts laughing too, Chris’s strong laugh contagious in the small room.

“No… no you don’t,” Chris stutters, “you know you love me.”

Zach stops, moving to lay down, his body flush on top of Chris’s.

“Yeah,” Zach agrees, kissing the tip of Chris’s nose, “I do.”

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to put the whole prompt in, just because it's only from Zach's POV so here is the whole prompt.
> 
> Chris would love nothing more than to have a wild night with his downstairs neighbor, Zach. When he accidentally discovers that Zach has bought a how-to manual on "pleasing" men, he knows a wild night is out of the question! But when Zach asks for lovemaking lessons, Chris knows he must do his part for all men and make Zach the best lover ever -- and he'll do it all by the book. Embarrassed doesn't begin to describe how Zach feels when his sexy neighbor sees his first book, Sex for Total Morons. He knows he's a master in the bedroom, but judging by Chris' sudden pitying expression... Chris doesn't. Fortunately, Zach isn't about to let this opportunity pass by -- Chris is a teacher, so there's no way he'd refuse to teach him all the ins and outs of sex!


End file.
